


Picking Berries - day 1 mistletoe

by ravendiana



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Mistletoe, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravendiana/pseuds/ravendiana
Summary: Mistletoe traditions have changed over the years, and Aziraphale is nothing if not a traditionalist.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Picking Berries - day 1 mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Waywren Truesong (waywren)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywren/gifts).



Crowley was walking down the street with Aziraphale's arm tucked into his own. The lights were just popping up and it was lovely, if entirely too cold. His mind supplied several options for warming up that he promptly resolved NOT to think about, focusing instead on the promise of a hot toddy and an electric blanket, which he was currently considering to be one of humanity's greatest achievements. He should probably leave one at the bookshop as often as he'd been there since the world had dramatically declined to end. That thought led to more ignoring of alternate warming up options. He was so busy ignoring his own mind that he didn't process at all what the angel had just said, and got yanked backwards when he stopped.

"Gah! Wha?" Silver tongue, him. He followed the angel's gaze to where a couple stood in a nearby doorway, snogging away.

"I said, they don't even pull off the berries anymore." Aziraphale repeated, having learned, over the years, to properly translate the various sounds Crowley often used in place of words. Crowley looked at the couple, attempting to trace the relevance of the comment. The green above them caught his attention, and he finally put it together.

"Why does that matter? They change their traditions all the time." Granted Aziraphale would get stuck on the oddest human quirks, keeping to them long after the last human who cared about them was gone.

"It made it mean something, _'Pick a berry off the mistletoe, For every kiss that's given. When the berries have all gone, There's an end to kissing.'"_ he recited. "The way they do it now there's no intention. If you can kiss everyone as many times as you like, you don't know who means anything by it. Someone could use the tradition to kiss the love of their life, and the other person would just think it was a game."

"I think that might be the idea, angel." Crowley answered slowly. "The way they do it now lets them protect themselves. If they do kiss the love of their life and the other person isn't interested they can just point to the plant. 'Wasn't really me, just the bloody twig, rules is rules right?' Lets them keep up appearances, yeah. Better to be able to still have a friend, that's the important part after all. Sometimes something small and deniable is better than nothing." 

Aziraphale looked at him with a considering expression. "I suppose I see how someone might feel that way. It's terribly sad, to be put in that position."

Crowley shrugged with the arm not still linked together. "Better than being alone though, and it's not like happy or fair was something She ever promised anyone. The trick to being cheerful is to value what you've got, rather than dwelling on what you don't." 

"Now you sound like one of those dreadful greeting cards, my dear. Oh do tell me those pithy things weren't your idea."

"What, they spread poetry and the arts. Inspired Shakespeare, didn't I?" They started walking forward again, bickering amiably. The normalcy of it was jarred by the periodic considering glances Aziraphale shot at him. 

When they finally reached the cafe they were heading for, Aziraphale stopped in the door, looking up. The ubiquitous parasite hung here as well. He looked Crowley straight in the eye and reached up, plucking one white berry off the bough and handing it to the demon.

"Just so there's no mistake," he said, before leaning in and kissing Crowley full on the lips, softly but lingering. Crowley had just gotten his brain back online to start kissing back when Aziraphale pulled back and looked at him. He blinked, then reached up and yanked the whole bough down, holding it out. 

"Can we just go home now?" he asked, breathless. The angel laughed like bells and turned to retrace their steps home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Read by Quefish here
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23985820


End file.
